Kyle Valenti (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
kyle_valenti) wrote2006-04-02 11:08 pm
kyle_valenti) wrote2006-04-02 11:08 pm
Entry tags:
Fanfic100 prompt - Star
Title: At the Stars
Fandom: Roswell
Claim: Kyle Valenti
Pairing: Kyle/Michael Guerin
Prompt: No. 46 "Star"
Word Count: 947
Rating: R for m/m hanky panky
Summary: Beer, a southern California night, and a couple of shooting stars lead to a little male bonding.
Author's Notes: Takes place after the gang left in that little blue van.
Kyle stared up at the stars. He was lying on his back, tucked into his sleeping bag, and feeling deep but insignificant in that way people did when they were drunk. When he saw a shooting star streak across the sky, he closed his eyes and made a wish. He opened them again and turned his head to look at Michael, smiling to see the other boy was looking at him with obvious amusement. Michael was in his sleeping bag, too, and Kyle giggled at the fact that he looked like a swaddled baby wrapped up safe and warm.
It was late summer and they were camping in southern California. The nights were cool, but not cold enough to chase them inside their tent for the night. The others had opted to seek shelter, all of them turning in and going to sleep after a pleasant evening spent drinking and talking. That was fine with Kyle. As selfish as it might have been to think it, he liked having Michael to himself. With the perfect clear sky above, the crackling fire behind their heads and his friend by his side, Kyle was pretty certain he'd found a little slice of heaven.
Kyle's gaze went back up to the stars, and it made him think of all the flowery descriptions of the night sky he'd ever read. They were all true, he realized, but they still didn't come close to describing the perfect, inky darkness dotted with pinpricks of light. It was at that moment, between the thoughts of heaven and inky darkness, that Kyle knew he was most definitely toasted.
Smiling, he sighed and looked at Michael, again. The other boy was looking up, too, but sensed his friend looking at him and turned his head.
"You want more beer?" Kyle asked.
Michael shook his head. "I'm done."
"Me too," Kyle nodded. "I'm just soaking up the night air, man. It's great out here. I'm feeling deep, in touch with the universe, all that enlightenment crap I can't seem to find when I'm sober."
Chuckling, Michael nodded, too, and looked up. "Yeah, it's really nice."
"Romantic, too," Kyle said, blinking sleepily as another shooting star went screaming across the blackness. "If you were a woman, I'd be making one of my patented moves."
Michael's face screwed up into a frown, but he continued to watch the stars. "You have patented moves?"
"Mmm hmm."
"Like what?"
Kyle shook his head. "Can't tell you, man. Trade secrets."
A drunken laugh and Michael slipped an arm out of his sleeping bag to punch Kyle's shoulder. "You're so full of shit."
"'Fraid not."
"There are no moves."
"There are."
"Show me."
The words were unexpected, and Kyle turned his head to look at Michael, then slowly smiled. He was drunk enough for that to sound like a perfectly legitimate proposal, and, to be honest, it wasn't as if he hadn't thought about what it would be like to make a move on his friend. Until now, the threat of being disemboweled had made him keep his hands to himself, but there it was, a great big invitation. So what if they were both hammered?
Gathering his sleeping bag, Kyle wriggled closer to Michael, wishing his heart wasn't beating so fast. He didn't want this to be a big deal (despite the fact that it felt like a huge deal), but his hands still shook as he unzipped his sleeping bag then reached to do the same to Michael's. The other boy didn't say anything when Kyle scooted closer and slipped an arm inside, resting it across Michael's waist. Trying not to giggle, he touched his lips to Michael's ear and gently sucked on the lobe.
"Girls like this?" Michael snickered, making Kyle let loose the giggle he'd been holding back.
"If you had tits, I'd be feeling you up," he said, licking Michael's ear for good measure.
Michael grinned. "Sorry, no tits, but..." He took hold of Kyle's hand and moved it down to his crotch. "There you go. I've just taught you a new move."
If Kyle had been sober, he'd have been flustered and embarrassed, but the night's beer binge had given him some welcome courage. His heart was racing, now, but he wasn't scared. He was excited and suddenly wanted nothing more than to let Michael know exactly how welcome this opportunity was.
"This won't work on a girl," Kyle said slowly, squeezing and rubbing Michael as he spoke.
Michael inhaled sharply and shifted a little. "Not supposed to."
His lips dragging over Michael's cheek, Kyle could feel his friend getting hard, and that was enough to arouse him, too.
"Feel good?" he whispered.
Michael slowly turned onto his side and then there was a hand between Kyle's legs, grabbing and massaging until Kyle was whimpering from the stimulation. Kyle's hand was still working Michael, and when his friend smiled at him, Kyle felt as if his heart was going to burst.
"Good?" Michael asked softly.
Kyle nodded. "Uh huh." His fingers moved to clumsily unbutton Michael's jeans so he could slip a hand inside.
Mirroring his friend's actions, Michael grunted softly and pressed his mouth to Kyle's, making the other boy's head swim. They were kissing, really kissing, and that seemingly amazing thought wouldn't stop swirling around inside Kyle's head. Lips and tongues were exploring as eagerly and greedily as their hands groped. Fists gripped, working each other's cocks, but they both knew that wasn't going to be enough. It was all they'd be able to do that night, though, the stars the only witnesses to the start of something that neither of them had been expecting.
Fandom: Roswell
Claim: Kyle Valenti
Pairing: Kyle/Michael Guerin
Prompt: No. 46 "Star"
Word Count: 947
Rating: R for m/m hanky panky
Summary: Beer, a southern California night, and a couple of shooting stars lead to a little male bonding.
Author's Notes: Takes place after the gang left in that little blue van.
Kyle stared up at the stars. He was lying on his back, tucked into his sleeping bag, and feeling deep but insignificant in that way people did when they were drunk. When he saw a shooting star streak across the sky, he closed his eyes and made a wish. He opened them again and turned his head to look at Michael, smiling to see the other boy was looking at him with obvious amusement. Michael was in his sleeping bag, too, and Kyle giggled at the fact that he looked like a swaddled baby wrapped up safe and warm.
It was late summer and they were camping in southern California. The nights were cool, but not cold enough to chase them inside their tent for the night. The others had opted to seek shelter, all of them turning in and going to sleep after a pleasant evening spent drinking and talking. That was fine with Kyle. As selfish as it might have been to think it, he liked having Michael to himself. With the perfect clear sky above, the crackling fire behind their heads and his friend by his side, Kyle was pretty certain he'd found a little slice of heaven.
Kyle's gaze went back up to the stars, and it made him think of all the flowery descriptions of the night sky he'd ever read. They were all true, he realized, but they still didn't come close to describing the perfect, inky darkness dotted with pinpricks of light. It was at that moment, between the thoughts of heaven and inky darkness, that Kyle knew he was most definitely toasted.
Smiling, he sighed and looked at Michael, again. The other boy was looking up, too, but sensed his friend looking at him and turned his head.
"You want more beer?" Kyle asked.
Michael shook his head. "I'm done."
"Me too," Kyle nodded. "I'm just soaking up the night air, man. It's great out here. I'm feeling deep, in touch with the universe, all that enlightenment crap I can't seem to find when I'm sober."
Chuckling, Michael nodded, too, and looked up. "Yeah, it's really nice."
"Romantic, too," Kyle said, blinking sleepily as another shooting star went screaming across the blackness. "If you were a woman, I'd be making one of my patented moves."
Michael's face screwed up into a frown, but he continued to watch the stars. "You have patented moves?"
"Mmm hmm."
"Like what?"
Kyle shook his head. "Can't tell you, man. Trade secrets."
A drunken laugh and Michael slipped an arm out of his sleeping bag to punch Kyle's shoulder. "You're so full of shit."
"'Fraid not."
"There are no moves."
"There are."
"Show me."
The words were unexpected, and Kyle turned his head to look at Michael, then slowly smiled. He was drunk enough for that to sound like a perfectly legitimate proposal, and, to be honest, it wasn't as if he hadn't thought about what it would be like to make a move on his friend. Until now, the threat of being disemboweled had made him keep his hands to himself, but there it was, a great big invitation. So what if they were both hammered?
Gathering his sleeping bag, Kyle wriggled closer to Michael, wishing his heart wasn't beating so fast. He didn't want this to be a big deal (despite the fact that it felt like a huge deal), but his hands still shook as he unzipped his sleeping bag then reached to do the same to Michael's. The other boy didn't say anything when Kyle scooted closer and slipped an arm inside, resting it across Michael's waist. Trying not to giggle, he touched his lips to Michael's ear and gently sucked on the lobe.
"Girls like this?" Michael snickered, making Kyle let loose the giggle he'd been holding back.
"If you had tits, I'd be feeling you up," he said, licking Michael's ear for good measure.
Michael grinned. "Sorry, no tits, but..." He took hold of Kyle's hand and moved it down to his crotch. "There you go. I've just taught you a new move."
If Kyle had been sober, he'd have been flustered and embarrassed, but the night's beer binge had given him some welcome courage. His heart was racing, now, but he wasn't scared. He was excited and suddenly wanted nothing more than to let Michael know exactly how welcome this opportunity was.
"This won't work on a girl," Kyle said slowly, squeezing and rubbing Michael as he spoke.
Michael inhaled sharply and shifted a little. "Not supposed to."
His lips dragging over Michael's cheek, Kyle could feel his friend getting hard, and that was enough to arouse him, too.
"Feel good?" he whispered.
Michael slowly turned onto his side and then there was a hand between Kyle's legs, grabbing and massaging until Kyle was whimpering from the stimulation. Kyle's hand was still working Michael, and when his friend smiled at him, Kyle felt as if his heart was going to burst.
"Good?" Michael asked softly.
Kyle nodded. "Uh huh." His fingers moved to clumsily unbutton Michael's jeans so he could slip a hand inside.
Mirroring his friend's actions, Michael grunted softly and pressed his mouth to Kyle's, making the other boy's head swim. They were kissing, really kissing, and that seemingly amazing thought wouldn't stop swirling around inside Kyle's head. Lips and tongues were exploring as eagerly and greedily as their hands groped. Fists gripped, working each other's cocks, but they both knew that wasn't going to be enough. It was all they'd be able to do that night, though, the stars the only witnesses to the start of something that neither of them had been expecting.